Making Sense Honestly most of the time I make perfect sense. That's why I just don't get the reason why they're always hammering on some non-existent fact about me going on and on about nothing in particular and being overly sensitive. See I thought last night was pretty hilarious after a long distance call and another not-so-long distance call. Of course I know you meant it. I'm sorry too. There you have it. A public apology. Now aren't we all a big and happy family. What was that song again?

'I love you, you love me, we are happy family.'

It irks me to remember that nothing, nothing lasts forever.

I'm no longer that idealistic child of those innocent yesteryears, when love spelt love minus the acronymities (yes I'm coining up words of my own), no -ologies nor -isms in between the fine lines; when fine lines never did exist. Now it's all getting complex, you see.

Don't mind me. I'm just learning how to maintain an optimistic outlook in an all too realistic world.
  ¶ 14:51